


Tired

by DoucheMcBagger



Category: Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda) - Fandom, Linked Universe - Fandom
Genre: Exhaustion, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Stress, survivors guilt mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoucheMcBagger/pseuds/DoucheMcBagger
Summary: Part of him wondered if it was more draining to keep hiding away his suffering, but that part was always drowned out by the louder voice squirming under his skin and tensing his muscles--insisting that opening up now would be too much, too tiring, that he wouldn't make it through the process and would have to give up.So he did.He gave up before he ever started. And the exhaustion grew. And his sleep worsened.Legend needs a break.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Tired

To say he was tired is to downplay his situation to the extreme. Exhaustion leaked into every inch of his body, pulling at his muscles and hammering at his joints. Sleep, however, was not an option--at least not a traditional sleep. Whenever he slept, he dreamed, and whenever he dreamed the burdens came back.

In the dreams he never thought of them as burdens, but, as he woke, his exhaustion--his aching heart and tear-soaked face--would bring a bitterness that drenched every aspect of his being. Taking care of others was a necessity--it was his job to look out for them, so stopping wasn't an option. The effort it took stretched him thinner than paper. 

Every time someone said his name, it felt like he had been stabbed right in the back. He would close his eyes, compartmentalize the stress, upsetness, and exhaustion to turn and ask what they wanted. 

His question always came out far harsher than he wanted--most his words did. Regret would always tug at his chest in an instant, but the others seem to shrug it off. It was expected--they were used to it, and that added to the bitterness he felt towards himself.

In his exhaustion he was abandoning them. He wasn't able to be there for them in the same way they offered to support him, so he never let them. He shut them out--covered his ears, closed his eyes--pretended that he didn't need help, but, Hylia, was it exhausting. 

Part of him wondered if it was more draining to keep hiding away his suffering, but that part was always drowned out by the louder voice squirming under his skin and tensing his muscles--insisting that opening up now would be too much, too tiring, that he wouldn't make it through the process and would have to give up.

So he did.

He gave up before he ever started. And the exhaustion grew. And his sleep worsened. 

The situations in his dreams--when he gave in to sleep--were more dire. Even more delicate people would be at risk. Even more precious people would be at risk. He stopped being able to save them.

He was left, grasping at thin air for people he couldn't save. None of them had asked for saving--had thought they needed it, but if he didn't do it they didn't survive. They never would on their own. He had to help, or it was like killing them himself. 

He killed them either way.

Early on it became clear there was no saving anyone in these dreams. Even so, they haunted him so heavily that in the day their deaths rang as real in his heart. He would find himself grieving for facades of people. Failure would cling in a lump at the back of his throat and strangle his belly until he could barely eat.

He had to eat, or they would worry though... and that was worse. 

Months and months of exhaustion drug on. It was a gauntlet that he couldn't survive and one day, he cracked. 

Legend wandered into camp after having gotten up for one of his late night walks. They all knew he did it and had given up trying to get him to sleep when he needed to distract his mind. Sitting in the dim embers of the fire was Warriors. He was resolute on his watch, as a soldier would be. 

It was odd seeing him whenever he was mostly alone. His posture would be less lax as the muscle memory of his training set in. His alertness would be heightened to the point of almost being jumpy. 

He was jumpy now; his eyes darting around Legend's figure, attempting to search for differences or movement behind the other hero to denote danger. It always faded fast--battle gets you attuned to split second assessments, and this time was no exception. Quickly his gaze stilled and settled on Legend's face. He nodded in welcome to his companion, and Legend nodded back.

Quietly, he moved from the trail he had walked back to his bedroll's position at the edge of camp. He plopped down onto the ineffective bedding. His body protested--finally receiving a break and punishing him for pushing it too long. As he thumped his head back onto the bedroll, his body continued to ache. His head pulsed lightly on the sides in a mild pain.

Sleep of course didn't come despite his exhaustion. He wouldn't let it. The stress of dreaming kept him awake, and as he lay in his misery, awake, sore, aching, tears started to well in his eyes. A panic shot through him at the tears. Why was he crying? Because he was sore and tired? He's been sore and tired. He's been through worse. Why the fuck would this be what breaks him down? Why would a walk be unraveling him? Despite his confusion and worry, the tears come. The tears flow down his cheeks in silence, and the confusion and distress build and bubble within him. 

His throat felt like it was swelling shut, and congestion pressed up against his nose to the point where he was given no choice but to sniff. His mouth cracked open to let air in past his misery. It was a quiet gasp that sputtered into a slight sob. A worry that Warriors would hear scratched at the back of his mind, but it was overwhelmed by the tears his exhaustion was drowning him in, and more gasps came. 

It wasn't long before the sound of someone shifting reached his ears. Goddess he wanted nothing to do with this. Maybe he could pretend to be asleep? As the idea occurred, another quiet sob escaped him, and the validity of that idea wavered. Warriors was a show-off, not stupid. 

Footsteps approached. There really was going to be no avoiding it. He needed an excuse quickly. 

But no excuse came. His mind was too tired, too scrambled, too panicked, too overworked. 

Warriors lowered himself to his knees next to Legend. He didn't touch him, but rested a hand beside his, palm up. He didn't make eye contact or say a word. He was familiar with sorrow--they all were. Words wouldn't help right now, and he knew that. 

Legend hesitated. He wanted nothing to do with this, but he was so tired, so hurt. As if on their own, his fingers sought out Warriors'. Their grip was crushingly tight, but there was no change in posture or expression from the captain. He just waited patiently. 

It felt like hours, but eventually the tears slowed to a stop and his breathing returned to normal. Bitterly, he snatched his hand back. Legend didn't look at Warriors. He stared resolutely up above at the night sky. He didn't want to talk about it.

Warriors didn't push him though like he had been expecting. He just sat and adjusted himself to be comfortable enough to complete his watch from his current position. 

It was comforting, but not enough to sleep. As comforting as it was, Legend's body was too tired to handle the presence of another person, and the parts of him nearest to Warriors tensed up like they were about to be stung. While the majority of him was calmed, that part of him continued to fester.

He wasn't going to get any sleep like this, and normally that would be fine. Apparently not this time though. This time was too much. He wouldn't be recovered by morning. He didn't feel like he would recover for a week even if he got full, restful sleep. 

So he groaned and pushed himself up. His knees drew into his chest, and his chin bonked down on top of them. Warriors didn't shift, but he was definitely aware.

"Want to take watch instead?" He offered gently.

It was an out, and Legend wanted to take it more than anything, but instead he muttered a disapproving sound. His eyes traced the clearing for a while as his brain tried to work out what to do. 

With a sigh he gave up.

"I'm tired, Captain," he whispered. Warriors tilted his head and waited for Legend to continue."Ev-" a hesitant inhale- "Everytime I go to sleep I see them…. All those people… I can't save them no matter what I do." A scoffing, bitter sound emerged from his chest, and he shifted his head on his knees--his cheek now resting on them as he faced his companion. "I can't even get myself to try sometimes." Guilt drenches his last sentence, and he can feel the tears building in him again. 

Warriors doesn't know exactly what he's talking about, but he sighs anyway. 

"I know how you feel…" he mutters. 

Legends eyes flick over his face, the tears stalled.

"There were so many good people who died in the war with Ganon… I knew a lot of them personally. I was in charge of a lot of them... I can't count the amount of times I've felt guilty about it," he paused. 

The captain seemed lost in thought for a moment. His words feel hollow, but also assuring in the sense that someone can relate in a way to what he's going through. 

"I'm not sure how to cope with it entirely... I usually just tell myself I did all I could in the moment. I can go back and think through the what ifs, but in the end… You know, you always do what you can in that moment. You can never do more than that, no matter how it feels. What's important is that you tried to help, or at the very least wish you could try. I know that means a lot to those people's families--that someone tried to help them in those final moments… Sometimes it doesn't bring them any peace for a while, but it helps eventually… I know it's not gonna fix it, or stop the dreams, but you gotta remind yourself that you did all you could sometimes," Warriors words trailed off. He seemed to want to say more but was getting lost in his own memories. 

His words don't fix it, but there is some assurance. Legend closed his eyes and felt himself actually relax. His eyes open slowly to stare out over the camp. The two of them sit in silence for a while, in their grief, pondering. 

The silence acts as a comforting blanket until Warriors feels a gentle pressure on his left arm. He glances over to see Legend, head cushioned on his arm, sleeping peacefully. A relieved smile pulls at his lips, and he turns his gaze back to watching over the clearing.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a year since I posted anything. I had a couple stories lined up last year, but then on the 27th of December 2019 I got hit head-on in a car accident, and my body was too messed up to really move for a while and I got a concussion. Kinda put a damper on the creative process. Idk if I'll get around to writing those stories or not. I may just stick to drabbles for a while. Anyway, I'm not dead just almost was lol
> 
> Now, I've been having a lot of stress dreams, so relating to my boy Legend on this one. Wasn't able to fall asleep last night because of it, so for the first time in ages I wrote something. It was at like 7AM with no sleep, but here we are. The only other thing I've wrote in the past year were very short drabbles for my DnD group. I probably won't post them but if anyone's interested I could send them. I doubt it since none of you know the characters or story though lol
> 
> @ThirstyPlantMan insisted that I mention that when his reaction when he read it, so here. He sent the following messages:  
> thirstyplantmanToday at 3:05 PM  
> tyce ; - ;  
> @douchemcbagger  
> how do u write u basard  
> tyce im angy that youre so good at writing  
> im gonna give u an angy bonk on the head  
> that is not true i would affectionately bonk u on the head


End file.
